


⚯ Cursed Rings ⚯

by CheshireCatLife (orphan_account)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Break Up, Depression, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, VictUuri, Victuri, Vikturi, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-20 14:31:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10664616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/CheshireCatLife
Summary: ⚯ Yuri and Viktor parted ways after Grand Prix, their relationship coming to an end because of it. Yuri, filled with anger and hatred, has thrown away his life and fallen into despair. He hasn't given up on skating, though. In fact, he's doing the opposite. He wants to beat Viktor and he's hurting himself in the process.Viktor, on the other hand, wishes to turn back time. He wants to change everything. He never wanted to break Yuri's heart. That was never his intention. And, when he gains an email from Yuri, all he has to do is figure out how to do exactly that- turn back time.But, turning back time is impossible. And, with the rings lost, they have no hope. Yet, didn't the store owner say something? Weren't they supposed to remember something? Maybe they never will...Co-written with @LilzIsTrash on Wattpad and posted on @LilyMaddie on Wattpad ⚯





	1. Silver Not Gold

He had failed. Well, not quite. He had done the one thing he said he wouldn't do- fail Viktor. He had won silver, not gold. And now, here he was, in front of his now former coach, trying not to cry.

'Yuri, maybe you were right.' Viktor sighed, gazing down at the floor. Yuri's eyes widened as he looked up in surprise, focusing on Viktor's faded smile.

'W-what do you mean, V-Viktor?' He stuttered, unable to comprehend the man's words. Viktor's icy blue eyes met Yuri's chocolate ones and Yuri could see a thing. The once glistening, bright eyes were dull: lifeless. There was no joy, no love. Nothing.

'I think it's time we ended this, Yuri. I'm going to return to skating. The marriage, let's just put it on hold...for now.' Viktor stated, his voice cold and emotionless. Yuri stepped backs, shocked. He couldn't believe this was happening.

'W-what?' His voice broke and his throat burned, the tears already welling in his eyes. He hadn't been expecting this, especially not from Viktor.

Viktor had cared about him or so he thought. He had loved Viktor and he thought Viktor had loved him back. It seemed that he was wrong.

'Yuri, you heard what I said. I'll come back, though. I won't leave forever. I love you' Yuri held in the tears. He didn't understand; he couldn't understand.

Sadness overwhelmed him along with the rising anger inside of him. 'Why? Why are you leaving in the first place!' He wanted to shout, he couldn't. He couldn't find it within himself to shout. He still loved Viktor not matter how much he was breaking his heart.

Viktor stared at him, surprised. He hadn't seen Yuri like this before. He hadn't ever seen Yuri enraged or even angry. Irritated, maybe but this was different. This was new.

'Why, Viktor? What did I do to deserve you leaving like this? Is it because I got silver? Is it because I didn't get gold? Well, if that's so, just leave. I'll talk to you again when I'm ready.' Tears now flowed from his eyes. People stared but he didn't care, he was too caught up in his sorrow to care.

Viktor was about to speak but Yuri cut him off; he didn't want to hear any more. 'I said leave, Viktor.' He gritted his teeth and when Viktor didn't leave, he took it into his own hands and left himself, pushing Viktor and the others out of the way.

He didn't care what they thought of him anymore. They could go to hell for all he cared.

-

A month had passed now but Yuri still remembered it so clearly. His hair had grown out a bit and was now strewn messily across his head. He had bags under his eyes and his once chubby body was skinny now since he barely ate. He let out a sigh and continued typing.

Here he sat, typing away at his computer, his email open.

**To: ViktorNikiforov@YOI.com**

It was time he said the truth.


	2. First Email

_Viktor,_

_I miss you, a lot, Vik. Japan isn't the same without you._

_This email, I'm writing it because...well...I wanted to put a few things out there. A lot of things, actually. I don't want you to see me like this but I have to tell you this. I can't hold it in any longer. It's been a month, Vik, a month._

_I think you broke my heart._

_I love you, you know that, though, right?_

_After you cancelled the wedding and returned to Russia, I lost myself. You never messaged me, you still haven't. Vik, what did I do wrong? I guess I already know the answer to that: I didn't win gold._

_I always knew you were too petty to really love me. You never cared for me. You never loved me. I was a game to you. You broke it off because I hadn't won gold. I had won silver, Vik, SILVER! I broke your record! Was that not enough?_

_You broke it off because you couldn't have it so a loser like me could be better than you. 'I'm going to return to skating,' you said, 'I love you,' you said. Was it all just a lie?_

_I want to laugh but I can't find it within myself to do so. You feed each and every insecurity I have every moment you don't talk to me. I don't think I can forgive you for that. The last thing I said was 'I love you' and over the month that has passed I believed it less and less to the point where I don't believe in it at all._

_I gave back my ring. I couldn't stand to look at it anymore. I couldn't afford it anyway. All it signified to me was a fake love so I thought it was better off back in the store. Just like I feel like I'm not better off away from you._

_...I'm sorry._

_This isn't me._

_I never meant to get angry._

_I guess I got what I really wanted to out but there is one more thing I have to say, thank you. For being my coach, for being there when I needed you. No matter how much I hate you now, I'm still grateful. You meant everything to me and I'm glad that I could love you, even if only for a short time._

_Maybe you might just reply and this will all be a misunderstanding. I hope so._

_オールウェイズ・ラヴ・ユー_ _,_

_Yuri._

Yuri sighed, his finger hovering over the mouse. All he had to do was click and this would all be over. _Send._ He clicked it in one motion, there was no turning back now. He rested his head in the crook of his arm and tried his best to stop the tears from spilling out, he couldn't.

He had failed, in more ways than one. He always knew this would happen. He knew that he would put too much confidence in himself before failing, again. He just never thought it would end this badly. This was the second time he hadn't reached gold in the Grand Prix final. And, not only had he failed that. He had failed at love too.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have fallen in love with someone he _knew_ would never love him back.

The tears flowed endlessly that night.

-

Viktor stared at the email, his hands trembling. He didn't know what to reply with; the feeling was foreign to him. He had just received an email and out of habit, he had clicked on it but he never thought that this would be what he would see. He felt something sting at the back of his eyes, but he had no clue to what it was or even what to do. Anger began to replace the sadness.

_How could he want this?_

He knew that what he did was wrong, that he should have never called off the wedding but why in the world would Yuri want this? Viktor looked at his hand. The ring still was on his finger, glistening brightly in the sunlight but now, it seemed as dull as ever. He took it off and held it in his palm, his eyes narrowing. His phone fell to the floor, and his hand clenched around the ring. He clenched his teeth and glowered at his fisted hand.

And in one swift motion, he had stood up and the ring was flying through the air.

It hit the wall, falling down to the tile floor. He fell back into his chair, resting his head in his cupped hands. His breaths were slow and heavy and he was trying his best to calm down. Viktor had never felt like this before, and he hated it. He hated the lack of control he had. He hated it all. After what seemed like hours, he finally calmed down. He got up slowly and made his way to where the ring lay. He picked it up, and held it to the sun, leaning back into his chair.

He let out a sigh, and closed his eyes, the hand that held the ring resting on the desk. He was just about to sleep when he heard a loud bang at his door, and when he opened his eyes, he saw that his door was hanging off its hinges.

Standing in front of him was the blonde sixteen-year-old, Yuri Plisetsky.

"What the hell do you think you are doing here old man? You should be practising!"


	3. I Can't Live In The Dark

'I'm coming, I'm coming.' He muttered, waving the young sixteen-year-old, Yurio, away. He reached for his bag, which was tucked in some forgotten corner of his apartment, before grabbing his keys and leaving the car. The Russian teen stalked behind him, clearly expecting a lift as he had already bothered to walk this far just to get Viktor to the rink itself.

Viktor glanced at his watch, he was an already an hour late. If anything, he didn't want to go to practice at all. He wanted to lie in bed and forget about his disappointing life, watching a film or reading. He wanted to forget it all. He hadn't realised what he had done until he clicked that dreaded email and it felt as if his whole world had come crashing down.

He hadn't meant to do anything wrong. Yet, somehow, he had managed to break Yuri's heart. He hadn't even broken it with words but rather, the lack of thereof. Viktor was disappointed in himself. He didn't understand what had happened. One moment he had left Yuri, fuming, knowing that it was for good reason- or, at least, he believed so. But, he had also believed that Yuri would forgive him for his sudden departure. It seemed that he hadn't and now Viktor felt a fool.

He still loved Yuri but it seemed that now, Yuri was losing his love for him. The statement scared him so much that he had to be pushed into the car by an irate Yurio. 'Something's on your mind, hag.' He spat, doing his best to care- not quite finding it within himself. Viktor didn't answer, it was a half-arsed question, anyway. Yurio didn't seem to mind, he wasn't in the mood to have to give advice to his older, rather mopey friend.

It was as if Yurio was the only one who ever saw Viktor like this. Never sad, just lost. He looked empty and the walls he built around himself collapsed because he knew Yurio didn't care nor did Viktor care that Yurio saw. It was there own little secret and was probably what kept their relationship intact. Viktor kept a smile on for some and Yurio was one of the few exceptions.

They pulled up at the rink, and Viktor quietly got out of the car, Yurio following close behind. Yurio then barged ahead, eager to get in the rink whilst Viktor followed lazily behind him. Viktor was in no mood to skate and with his inspiration now gone, he was as good as dead. Or so he felt, his coach seemed to disagree as Viktor stepped on the ice and performed his new routine.

'Отлично!' Yakov shouted, meaning perfect in Russian. Viktor couldn't find it within himself to smile so he simply scowled at his coach and began to make his way around the rink a few times, each glide sloppier than the last.

'I'm liking the change in attitude. This will surprise the audience for sure.' Yakov spoke to Mila who was standing lazily against the rink's wall, listening to her coach's words.

'Should we not try to help him? He seems...I'm not sure. He's usually always smiling. I'm worried, Yakov.' She spoke pityingly. A tone that Viktor despised. He wanted no pity; he wanted Yuri. Viktor trudged off the rink to give it someone else that could actually use it wisely and sent another glare towards his coach, who barely even noticed, before leaving without a word.

Viktor felt sick of skating. What once had helped him was now what caused him to need that help. The irony pained him. He remembered watching Yuri do his final routine at the Grand Prix and tried to smile. His lips quirked but nothing more happened. He had always said that a laugh was a cure to everything- a smile even. But what happens when you can't do either?

Viktor was stuck in the familiar cycle of sadness. But this time, he was failing to hide it from the world. That smile he gave to his fans was now empty, no more than a scowl. He wasn't sure if he could deal with the moderate fame anymore. Looking at the comments on his social media made him want to shout and the hatred only made him fall further. He was clinging to the edge of happiness and it felt as if Yuri was going to stamp his hand and let him fall. And then, all would be lost. Viktor would be lost.

Viktor was helpless. He had no help; he had no one he could trust. He just felt as if he was there. He was nothing. He was simply an existence that no one took notice off. He felt alone, that was it, alone.

-

Yuri, sitting across the world, was glued to his computer again. His cheeks were now dry, as were his eyes and that anger he had once let loose had been reeled in and contained, leaving only a spiralling sadness.

He could not be sure that Viktor had seen his message but Yuri knew better than to think he hadn't. He had lost faith in hope. Despite once saying that Viktor would never read it, he knew he had been lying to himself. He had been in a constant state of denial since Viktor left and he was even in denial about that.

Yuri, feeling depleted, had reverted to his former self. He was no longer the confident, funny Yuri he had let be free. He had formed back into his old self; a man before Viktor. He was insecure, anxious, self-deprecating, the list could go on. He was the man who could not escape last place. 

He had become a failure again.

In a state of depression, he let his hands wander to the keyboard, his fingers resting upon the keys, skimming over them gently. Then, he began to type.

**To: ViktorNikiforov@YOI.com**

_Viktor,_

_I wanted to wait, I really did, but I can't help myself. So, here I am again, talking to a wall that will clearly never talk back._

_I don't know what to do, Vik. I think I'm losing my mind._

_I feel like the clock stopped ticking ever since you left and I can't seem to escape that final moment we had together. Are you like this too? I don't want to be like this. I don't want you to be like this, even. I hate this. I hate you._

_No, I don't._

_More and more, I feel myself saying things I don't mean. Your betrayal left me confused, to put it simply. I want an explanation, that's all. One simple explanation and this could all be over._

_Do you just not want me anymore? Is that it?_

_It was clear from the start that we wouldn't, couldn't, fall in love. We were destined to fail. You were the man that was loved by all. I was the man that, well, wasn't. We were never supposed to be on the same platform, I don't know why I ever believed we would be._

_Maybe I just wish it hadn't been so soon._

_I want you to answer. If I have a dying wish, it's that. You never have to say another word to me as long as I have an explanation. I can't live in the dark, even if the answers I want won't shed any light._

_I still love you, Vik. A month can't change that. I'm hoping that soon, though, this will all become a distant memory. I don't want to remember you Viktor yet I find you ingrained in my mind. I can't forget your icy eyes, your smooth lips, your gentle hair._ _I can't forget a thing._

_I think I will always remember you, even with my dying breath._

_I don't think I can bear the thought._

_Goodbye, Viktor- I'll be waiting for your reply._

_オールウェイズ・ラヴ・ユー_ _,_

_Yuri._


	4. Love And Life

Viktor pulled out his phone, having nothing else to do to distract him from his pain. He immediately clicked on his email and was greeted with a horrible sight. His hands trembled again as he clicked on the email sent from Yuri.

He read it, his eyes threatening to let out the tears inside of them, but he kept his composure. He decided to do something. To take a risk. He clicked on the reply button, the button that would decide the near future.

_Yuri,_

_I'm busy at the moment, but I want you to know that this was all a misunderstanding. I did mean to visit sooner, but I ended up getting caught up in recent events that I haven't been able to. I apologize, and I will make sure to keep in touch the best that I can. I am sorry, I have to go now._

_With love,_

_Viktor_

He let out a sigh and pressed send. After a few seconds of loading, it finally did send. He let out a sigh and started to head back to the rink. He felt a bit better, but he wasn't sure if what he had just done was right. He had a feeling that something was off, but that didn't matter at the moment. He needed to gain control of himself once more before the season started. maybe watching the other skaters could help him.

-

Yuri stood in front of his mirror, looking at himself in disgust. He had been exercising a lot lately, yet he only seemed to be gaining more weight. It wasn't too noticeable yet but was still a fact. He let out a sigh and then heard a distant 'ding' come from his computer. It was a new email. He left the bathroom and dragged himself to his computer.

**From: ViktorNikiforov@YOI.com**

He immediately clicked on the email and read it. After he had finished, however, so many of his questions we're still left unanswered, and he searched desperately for some sign that Viktor still cared about him.

He reread the message over and over again, but he couldn't find it. He felt rage, sadness, and doubt fill him up, clouding his common sense. There was nothing, nothing but Viktor's signature, that showed he still cared about Yuri. Sure, the signature said 'With Love', but that meant nothing to Yuri. Viktor probably used that to sign off all of his responses, so it was dull and meaningless. Yuri let out a yell of anger, and dug his nails into the wooden desk, leaving marks. He was pissed, angry, and filled with hatred. He hated Viktor, hated himself, hated everything. He needed air, but he didn't want to go or in public. That would only make things worse. He couldn't ice skate either, not now at least.

He sat up in anger, sending the chair falling backward. He didn't bother to pick it up however, he wasn't in the mood to care what mess he made. He paced back and forth in the room, his hands clenched into fists and his teeth clenched together. He could practically feel himself shaking with rage, and he hated that also. He hated being angry, it didn't suit him, but he couldn't help it anymore.

Anger is a funny thing. There are many different levels to it, it's not just a one type thing. Now, Yuri was the angriest he had ever felt in his life. He wanted to scream, to throw something, to cry, to attack someone. To send someone flying through the depths of hell. He couldn't however, he was alone in this tiny closed off space and his only friends that lived there were gone on a trip.

He had been broken so many times, it had just become part of his life, something to expect, but this was different. This wasn't just any person who had broken him, it was Viktor, the one person he had felt love for. He glared at his desk, where the ring that he had lied about giving away lay. It glistened in the sunlight, the brightest thing in that dull room. He hated it, though. Yuri hated the ring and everything that it stood for. The love that had left him like this, the man that had broken him twice, the pitiful past that he had with that man. He walked over to it, gritting his teeth in anger.

However, he couldn't bring himself to hurt it or give it up, however. There was something about it, something that made him still want to keep it. He let out a sigh, and the emotions that he felt were revealed in the sigh. He unclenched his fists and looked at the computer. It was still open in the email, and Yuri didn't know what to do. He wanted to ignore it, let it just stay there unanswered, but he also had so much to say. He looked at his feet, and he could feel the stinging of tears that threatened to spill.

His hands returned to their clenched state, and he gritted his teeth once more. He had been such a failure to Viktor, it was no wonder that Viktor had left him like this. He would never meet Victors standards, never be able to regain the man he had lost. He collapsed onto the floor, not being able to hold his sobs back anymore. He curled up into a ball, and let his sobs break free.

Little did he know, he wasn't the only one hurting.

-

Viktor watched the other skaters, wondering what motivated them to skate. He had seemed to have lost all his motivation, and he tried to remember what motivated him before he had met the Japanese skater.

"Love and life."

Those words didn't have the same meaning as they did back then. Now, they hurt. They hurt him so much because now they meant Yuri. Yuri was his life, his love, his motivation, and because of his stupid mistakes, he had lost him. He wanted so badly to go and see him, to change all his past mistakes, but now that was impossible.

You can't turn back time.

Victor started to feel sick, and his breathing became faster. He went to go sit on one of the benches, trying to calm down, but it only helped a little bit. He did his best to slow down his breathing, but he felt trapped in this area, even though it was so large. Yakov glanced at him and gestured for him to leave, and Viktor gladly did so.

He stumbled outside, breathing in the fresh air. He felt exhausted and sick but at least he was breathing more normally now. He needed rest. He heard the doors slam open and saw a grumpy Yurio walking out toward him.

"Get in the car old man, Yakov told me to drive you to your apartment." He growled, forcing Viktor to move towards the car. Once the were both in the car, Yurio started the engine and they drove in silence.

Once they made it, and Viktor had left the car, Yurio drove off without a word. Viktor sighed and entered his apartment room, and collapsed on the couch. After a few minutes, he was asleep.

Love and life had a completely new meaning now. 


	5. Blame

_Viktor,_

_I have so much to say now. I know I promised that it would be the last message if you would just explain, but look, you explained nothing. All you explained is that you've been 'busy'. That doesn't help Viktor. I need to know why, but obviously, you don't care._

_I don't care anymore either. It's now so very obvious how you feel about me, and I feel the same now. I hate you, despise every bit of you from your name to your appearance and straight down to your personality. You are a liar, and I can't believe I ever fell for your lies. Actually, nevermind, yes, I can. I was always so stupid and too trusting, it's not a surprise that I fell for your lies._

_You didn't have to lie, you know that right? You could've just told me straight up how you felt for me._

_Those tears, those smiles, those words, was it all just a lie? A cover up for your true intentions?_

_I wish I could just forget. I wish I could just pretend that none of this happened, but I can't. I have fallen so deep into this ditch you've created for me and now there is no way out. None that I can see, anyway. I can't forget you no matter how much I try. I can't forget those lies, the lies that buried me down here. I regret it all. I regret letting you coach me; I regret ever falling in love._

_I hate you now. There is no denying that._

_Why does the past like to haunt you? Is it just me who is haunted by the memories of our past? Have I fallen that deep into this thing called love that I have let my own mind rot away?_

_Of course. You didn't care, you don't care and you never will. So, I'm done._

_I'm done with it all. Except for one thing. The one thing that has ever given me relief, the one thing that I felt somewhat safe doing. Even though it comes with the horrible memory of you, at least we will be rivals when we meet again on it._

_The ice._

_That's what brought us together, that's what tore us apart._

_I know you won't take these words seriously, I know you won't care about them. But I do. They are my words, the words that I have come to believe in as truth._

_Now, I should end this letter before my anger takes hold of me more so than it already has._

_Goodbye Victor, see you in Barcelona._

_Sincerely,_

_Yuri Katsuki._

Yuri could feel himself panting. He was furious. He had finally said it. He had finally got it out of him. His anger and sadness had fused to be one and he had finally let one go. That still left one with him, though. He only knew of one way to get rid of sadness. That, that was skating.

Yet, skating had so many bad connotations. It meant Viktor, it meant love, it meant life. And, he hated all three. But that no longer matter, skating got rid of his sadness so he would do it until the pain stopped. Even if that meant forever.

The rink wasn't far so he ended up walking, trudging along with his hands stuffed in his pockets. It was cold, not snowing yet somehow it felt as if snow was hitting his skin. Maybe he was just wishing for the pain. He wanted repercussions for what he sent and if Viktor wouldn't be the one to supply it, he would.

He didn't regret it, he felt no remorse anymore. But, he couldn't help but feel that he went too far. He thought he was right in doing so- he had gained no reply as to why except that Viktor was 'busy'.

That was bullsh*t.

He knew Viktor would have a reason and it wasn't going to be that. It couldn't be that, Yuri wouldn't let that be true. Yuri felt like a caged animal, begging to be released but managed to only end up in a smaller cage. Viktor was closing in on him like walls of a room, suffocating him, making him panic- leading him to feel emotions he had never felt before.

The ice rink came into view and the sight that had often calmed him only angered him further. He stormed in, ignoring Yuko's welcomes. He was in no mood to talk. He wanted to be alone, he didn't want anyone to be a victim of his irritability apart from Viktor. Viktor deserved his wrath.

Without an explanation, Yuri couldn't feel free. He couldn't be separated from Viktor. These lies only kept Viktor on his mind. He was stuck and there was no peeling him away. His mind wanted to remember Viktor no matter what his heart told it.

He slipped on his skates and threw himself on the ice, a familiar sight to many. But, often seen from Yurio, not Yuri. Yuri never showed his anger. No matter what he felt, he hid it. But now, he had no energy to hide himself. He wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. But, without Viktor by his side, without his shield, he was open to the world. That was Viktor had done, he had protected him.

Viktor had been his shield, now he was no blunter than a sword. He no longer protected Yuri, he attacked him. Attacked him with simple words and promises. Promises that he only managed to break. What was once 'I love you' had become nothing more than I masked way of expressing his hatred. It sounded vindictive, cruel. Viktor didn't mean it- Yuri believed that wholeheartedly.

Yuri stood in the middle of the rink, the blades of his shoes cutting into the ice like knives. He carved them, moving in a circular movement. He smiled madly and looked at the ice. He wanted to hate it for all it reminded him of but somehow, it managed to calm him. But, it would never calm him enough.

He brought out his phone and began his music. It was so soft, so calm, the perfect song for a dance of irony. That was all that Viktor's love was, irony. It was fake, untrustworthy, variable. It was so conditional that it would have been easier if it hadn't been there at all.

Love had been his saviour, now it was ruin.

Yuri couldn't concentrate on the music anymore, it was all a blur. Everything around him was metamorphosing, showing him a different world. A cruel world. It showed his world. It showed what he thought of the world. Not. There. He had become so angered that he no longer saw the world around him. It was about him now, Viktor was only there to blame. He felt alone but he couldn't imagine it any other way. He was happy to be alone. Others were a nuisance to him now.

When Yuri next looked at the clock, hours had passed. Had he really just been listening to that same song for hours on end? He grimaced but continued to work, his legs burning but it went unnoticed by him. So much that when he finally stepped off the ice he felt nothing at all. He knew his heart was beating erratically but he could barely sense it. He knew his breathing was ragged but he barely heard it.

Yuri sighed and began to walk home, his throat dry yet his appetite non-existent. After doing so much for such a long time, Yuri would have thought himself to be hungry. It seemed his body was finally agreeing that he needed to lose some pounds. Huh, even his body was against his own well being now.

'Mum?' He called out, gaining no answer so he simply stalked to his room, not bothering to try again and collapsed onto his soft bed, wrapping himself in the warm covers, wallowing in the warmth. He sighed gleefully but found, despite his exhaustion from skating, his body was refusing sleep. It had done the same yesterday and Yuri found himself realising that all the symptoms had been reoccurring over the last few days. He groaned, his good mood lost and let his mind wander back to Viktor, anger now etched on his face.

He didn't want to hate Viktor but there wasn't a way to just stop. He couldn't. He was stuck in a cycle of hatred for the man he had once loved. What had happened? Viktor, that was it. There was no other explanation for the anger. It was blame. Blame that came in the form of anger. Blame for his state after Viktor left. Blame for his lack of a coach now. Blame for his terrible mental state.

He blamed him for everything.

And maybe, just maybe, Viktor was the one to blame. But, not for everything. Nothing can be put on one man's shoulders. Blame must be shared, the burden evened out. This was not just Viktor, this was Yuri too. Yuri was the one blaming others, letting himself fall into this mess, he was the one who couldn't forgive. Nor could he let Viktor back. It was too late now.

He would still skate though and simply the thought lulled him into his restless sleep but it was still sleep nonetheless. Skating, no matter the connotations, would always keep him sane. Even now.


	6. Get Well Wishes

Five weeks later, Viktor’s heart was still breaking as was the ice underneath him. He cut his blades into the thin layer of snow dusting the lake. He had taken a break from professional training for the week yet it still hadn’t kept him from the ice.

Being midnight, it was clear no one was going to interrupt him as he did a single loops, landing on the ice harshly. The anger floods out of him each time he hits the ice and he feels more relaxed than he had in weeks. He loved the ice but he hated what it brought with it but being out there, in the open, with no pressures or people to distract him- he felt free again. He felt like he had when he first stepped foot on the ice.

He began twirling and spinning lazily on his skates, digging his phone out of his pockets and begun to scroll through a few pictures on social media. Five minutes passed and it seemed that everyone, even Yurio, was happier than him. Pictures of smiling skaters bombarded him like gunfire. It hurt to know they were happy when he was not, all because he left the man he loved. He knew he had to, though and he knew that he didn’t want to tell Yuuri.

His reason was genuine and he knew it would be for the best that they were apart. Yet, why did he feel like he was falling apart? Why did he feel like _Yuuri_ was falling apart? Why did everything seem to be crumbling more than it was before? He had escaped to avoid the pain and had found himself worse. His only hope had been that Yuuri would recover.

It seemed Yuuri had only gotten worse.

His words were violent, cruel even. He used them against Viktor and he understood why. He would too. But, Viktor hadn’t found it within himself to reply. See you in Barcelona, so Yuuri was still competing, he contemplated. Viktor didn’t think he could face Yuuri like that. He would have to quit, maybe it would be for the best- he was too old for this anyway. He would be thirty soon and he would probably be thrown out before he could retire.

Viktor sighed and brought his attention back to his phone. He looked down, the picture catching his eyes, the description glowing brightly. Viktor fell, hard. The ice cracked underneath his weight just as his bones almost cracked under the pressure. He groaned and fell back, taking deep and steady breaths.

It couldn’t be true, it couldn’t be.

_Phichit+Chu: Get well soon, Yuuri! You better get out of that hospital bed soon and compete or I am going to kick your butt!_

The picture of Yuuri back in Detroit hardly mattered. Yuuri was in hospital. Why? When? How? Viktor panicked, his mind reeling whilst trying to grasp for an explanation. ‘Yuuri, what have you gotten yourself into?’ He breathed, panicked, before throwing himself off the ice and onto the lightly snowy ground. He threw off his skates and began to ran home. He was going to the rink tomorrow so he needed his sleep. He would go to ask each and every skater there if they knew what was wrong. Because, no matter how much pain he had caused Yuuri, he couldn’t let himself see Yuuri in this state. He was bad enough to be in _hospital._ What had happened that was so severe that he had been sent there?

Viktor ignored his spinning thoughts as soon as he opened his front door, almost immediately crumbling to the floor with exhaustion. But, out of sheer willpower, he made it to his bed. He didn’t even bother to change. His legs ached from the skating- he hadn’t realised how much he had done until now- and his mind needed a rest from the constant worrying thoughts attacking him. He was worried for Yuuri, really worried, and despite the exhaustion, he knew those thoughts would keep him up most of the night.

When he woke up, he knew he had been right. His eyes sagged and his cheeks looked almost hollow as he looked into his bathroom mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and it looked as if the weight had dropped off him. He knew this wasn’t just one night’s worth of bad sleep but days of bad eating and lack of sleep. He felt terrible, inside and out, but he knew what he wanted to do and he was going to do it. He slipped his sports bag over his shoulders and hurried out in a rush, towards the skating rink.

It didn’t take him long to arrive, the other skaters already on the ice. ‘Vitya!’ His name was called out in surprise, a gruff voice: Yakov.

‘Hi, Yakov.’ He panted, realising just how hard work it was now to just run to the rink- which was no more than five minutes from his apartment. ‘I came...to...ask about Yuuri.’ He spoke between heavy breaths, drawing the attention of other skaters who had never seen him so unfit.

‘What about him?’ Yakov raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

‘He’s in hospital, I think. I wanted to know why.’ Viktor regained his posture just slightly but was still taking slightly larger breaths than usual. Viktor scanned the room, just to be given multiple shrugs and a scowl from Yurio. Yakov didn’t say a word.

‘Vitya, get on the rink, you need to practice,’ was all Yakov said. Viktor gaped at him. That was not the answer he had been suspecting. But, it seemed that no one else had the answer and his only option was to follow orders. He wasn’t in the mood to be shouted at nor was he really in the mood to skate but he knew one was much better than the other.

Viktor started on step sequences, not noticing as the other’s stepped away and watched him worriedly as he lazily failed to do even simple steps. Viktor then began to do jumps, the worst idea he had probably ever had for the state he was in. Single loop, that went well, almost impossible to fail as a professional skater unless injured. The next, a double axel, also very hard to flub- some would say it was impossible unless injured too. It seemed they were wrong.

Viktor slammed into the ice hard, his arm taking the brunt of the damage. He felt the pain jolt through his arm and he groaned in pain, rolling onto his back and looked up to see one or two skaters leaning over him, no attempts to help- just to gape.

‘Vitya, get off that ice, now!’ Yakov barked and Viktor nodded in relief, limping as he got off the ice- it seemed his arm wasn’t the only thing injured. He fell back onto the bench and Yakov looked at him in disappointed. ‘I’m pulling you out of this season unless you can get your act together by next week. I would go see the hospital if I were you, you look almost dead.’ Viktor nodded half-heartedly and took off his skates, sighing.

How had he not noticed just how bad this had gotten? He left, he needed to accept that. But, he couldn’t. He couldn’t let go of the man he loved.


	7. Journeys

Viktor stayed at home for the next two weeks, out of sight of everyone- his friends, family and the public. He didn’t want them to see him in the state he was in. And, what a state that was. He didn’t think his cheeks had been dry in days and his stomach was beginning to cave in at the lack of food. His eyes sagged at the lack of sleep and were bloodshot as he refused to blink. Blinking would let the tears fall again- not that refusing it helped.

Unfortunately, it had been longer than a week and Yakov had kept up his side of the deal. He had been withdrawn from the season. He wasn’t going to ice skate professionally again this year, or ever. He was getting too old for this, no one wanted him anyway. Russia had abandoned him soon after he had left Yuri, they had good reason to. But, he didn’t regret his decision, not to abandon Yuri- no, he regretted that more than he ever thought he could- something else. He never regretted what he told his fans because he knew he had done the right thing. All to protect Yuri, all to protect him.

Viktor clutched at his stomach as it growled once again, his laptop almost falling from his lap. He coughed violently and clutched it harder. He had never known how hard not eating would hit. He still ate, barely, but enough to keep him alive yet the lack of substance was leaving him drained, especially as when he did eat it was something simple like a chocolate bar or a packet of crisps- comfort food.

Viktor, the coughing fit finally stopping, picked his phone up from the coffee table, throwing his laptop to the side- it barely landing off his legs with the weakness of the throw- and started scrolling through his contacts. When he found Yakov, he pressed the call button and brought the phone in front of him, turning on speaker.

‘Vitya.’ A gruff voice came through the phone, his tone simply acknowledging the man’s existence.

‘Hi, Yakov.’ Viktor smiled weakly as if Yakov could see him but it was clear that Yakov was unimpressed at how weak his voice was and the fact that his short words were followed by another coughing fit.

‘If you called to get your place back at the rink then you know I’m not going to accept.’ The man was blunt and to the point but Viktor was glad for those words. He didn’t want to return and the fact that others didn’t too only solidified his decision.

‘No, no, that’s not it.’ Viktor said, stifling another cough, he was going to puke soon if he didn’t eat. Maybe another chocolate bar would do. ‘I was wondering if I still had money from my sponsors to pay for tickets to Japan.’ Viktor wheezed, the itching to cough subsiding.

‘Vitya, I don’t think that is a good-’

‘No, Yakov, I asked you a question. Do I or do I not?’ Viktor’s voice was stronger, determined but still showcased his weak and frail body that had become apparent over the last week.

‘Yes, you do.’

‘Thank you, please book tickets. I may have quit but I’m sure you can do one more thing as my coach.’ Viktor ordered and even Yakov knew there was no room to debate. When Viktor wanted something, he got it, no matter how much it took. So, Yakov bought him tickets before Viktor could sell his belongings to pay for the ticket.

The tickets arrived quickly and it seemed that Viktor was going to Japan the next day. Just as he wanted. He had to see Yuri, no matter how much he thought he couldn’t. They wouldn’t care, right. All those people he told. He would stay out of the media. Yes, he could do that. He could go see Yuri if he stayed out of the way: no reporters, no media, no skating, no comments. He would safe, then. Hopefully.

Viktor’s flight went by well. Despite having to change planes halfway through, he had kept his energy up, eating a constant stash of sweets he had packed. He drew stares, no only from fans but from the general public too. He was thin, extremely thin. He was a professional athlete, one who had lost weight. He had been pure muscle before, not an ounce of fat on his body but now, now there was no fat _or_ muscle. He was a skeleton.

He could decipher the fans in the crowd, the ones that didn’t even approach him out of fear. Some, it seemed, already knew that he had retired by the disappointed looks they gave him. It seemed that seeing Viktor in person proved why he had quit.

He was not far from anorexic.

The train ride to Hasetsu was only worse. Fans finally gained the courage to speak to him and asked if he was visiting Yuri. Viktor weakly shook his head each and every time, to the disappointment of almost all his fans. Although, there were the few that seemed glad at the fact, almost disbelieving, though.

The train stopped and Viktor departed, the train would only return to the airport from here- this was the last stop. Viktor scanned the surrounding, his eyes blurred- still burning from the weeks of crying. He felt like crying again. This feeling, the feeling in his stomach, it was home. He felt this was home. He had never felt more welcomed- or more hated.

He had abandoned his home, not only to his devastation but Yuri’s too. Or maybe he wasn’t the cause of Yuri’s hospital visit, he was being selfish in assuming so. But, that wasn’t his only reason for being here. He wanted to make sure Yuri was well whether it was him or not that was the cause. He would have to apologise either way.

When he reached Yuri’s home, and the place he would be staying, the tears didn’t spill but the effort put into doing so drained him of almost everything. He thought he might collapse. He stumbled inside, barely dragging along his suitcase behind him- not that he needed it, he hadn’t packed much. He stood at the front desk without pressing the bell, someone would come eventually. He needed to sort himself out first but, it seemed, he really didn’t have the time as Hiroko Katsuki appeared from behind a curtain.

‘Viktor!’ She called, wrapping him in a warm hug- as if he hadn’t done anything wrong to her dearest son. She hugged him as if he wasn’t a monster. ‘How are you? Oh! I’ll get you back into your old room! It’s empty and we have now use for it so…’ she rambled on, continuing to talk whilst Viktor watched her, glad he didn’t have to speak himself.

‘Um...is Yuri here?’ He asked when they finally reached his room and Hiroko was _still_ talking. She shook her head solemnly at that.

‘Yuri is in hospital, he’s back tomorrow, though.’ It seemed that she tried to sound exuberant, as she normally did but all Viktor heard was melancholy. In fact, the whole atmosphere of the Inn had pegged down a tone. He couldn’t help but blame himself. This was his fault, wasn’t it?

‘That’s good. I’ll sleep now. Thank you for letting me stay here again.’ Viktor smiled weakly and brought his suitcase into his room and collapsed onto the futon on the floor. The guilt was unbearable and somewhere along the way of his sleepless night that single, horrible thought had floated through his mind. Just for a second but a second nonetheless. He was better off dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discontinued Until Further Notice

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on my [ Tumblr ](http://cheshirecatlife.tumblr.com), [ Wattpad ](https://www.wattpad.com/user/CheshireCatLife) or [ Instagram! ](https://www.instagram.com/_cheshirecatlife/)


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